


Wet

by badgirlcarly



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Domestic Discipline, M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgirlcarly/pseuds/badgirlcarly
Summary: Ray does something thoughtless and reckless, and Walter decides he needs to do something a little different for his punishment.





	Wet

  
Ray had lost his map. He had taken a wrong turn. He had not stopped for directions when he should have. For all these reasons, it was the next morning when he arrived home from a trip that should have seen him home the night before. 

Walter hugged him so hard he couldn't breathe, and the blade of guilt in Ray's gut twisted as Walter babbled out how worried he'd been, how glad he was okay, how glad he was home. 

“I'm sorry,” Ray said, and then began explaining himself. 

Walter watched with a furrowing brow, but was silent until Ray had finished. Then he spoke evenly. 

“You stupid ass,” he said. “I think you've got one more thing to say, don't you?” 

“I deserve a spanking,” Ray said softly, miserably. 

“You're right about that,” Walter said. “Here's what I want: I want you to take a shower, but I want you to do it with your undershorts on. When you're done, I want you to lay your towel on the bed, and I want you to lay down on it, bottoms up, with your shorts still on and without drying anything off.”

Ray didn't know what to make of the unusual instructions, but he knew he was in enough trouble to do anything but obey to the letter. He took a brief shower, more standing under the shower head and letting the hot water scald his skin than anything. Then, dripping, he took his towel into the bedroom, draped it across the bed, and laid himself across it, face down. His wet shorts clung to him; that and the water in his hair, on his shoulders, was beginning to cool, and he shivered. 

He lay there awhile in the dim and quiet of the bedroom. He listened to his breathing. His teeth chattered quietly. He thought about how fucking stupid he was to be in so much trouble, and mentally worked out a hundred other ways things could have gone. 

After a while, Walter came in. He turned on the light, and rested his hand for a moment on Ray's shorts. They were still soaked. Walter took his hand away, and Ray listened with his heart racing as Walter began unbuckling his belt. The leather strap hissed out of the belt loops, and then creaked a little as Walter doubled it and slapped it against his palm. 

“You. Stupid. Ass!” Walter said, punctuating each word with a slap of the belt against Ray's ass. Ray understood Walter's odd instructions about the shower: The belt hurt more on wet skin, and his shorts were keeping his ass wet. Each smack of the belt was like a burning brand searing across his ass and thighs. “Tell me what you did wrong. Tell me why you deserve this.”

The belt slapped fast against Ray's ass and thighs. He knew he'd only have a few welts when it was over, but it felt like each stroke was slicing open his skin. He gritted his teeth and focused on answering Walter, because Walter deserved to be answered just like Ray deserved this whipping. 

“I should have made sure I had a good map,” Ray said. “I should have asked for directions as soon as I knew I was lost. I should have called you a dozen times to tell you not to worry. I should have swallowed my pride and dealt with my stubbornness and put your needs first. I'm sorry I didn't, and I'm ashamed I didn't.”

Walter stopped swinging the belt. He jerked Ray up by his arm, sat on the bed, and dragged Ray over his lap. The belt was on the floor, and Walter started spanking Ray with his hand. It hurt more wet, too, and each hit stung like salt in a wound on top of the raw stripes the belt left. 

“It ain't just that,” Walter said, and his tone was gentle even as he layered mighty whacks across Ray's throbbing backside. “You could've gotten yourself in trouble, Ray. You could've gotten _hurt_. You need to take care of yourself, baby. You're not invincible. You gotta realize that.”

Ray heard a small, weak noise rip from his throat. He closed his eyes, and listened to the sound of Walter's big, hard hand smacking down on his sore, naughty bottom, felt the pain like liquid poured over his skin. He tried to settle himself, tried to get through it, but there was something left he had to do, and he knew as soon as he did it, he'd break down. 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, and just like he knew he would, he started crying, the tears fat and hot rushing down his cheeks. “I'll do better, I'll be better…”

Ray sobbed. Walter stopped spanking him. He pulled him up in his arms, pulled him close, whispered horse taming words in English and Lakota and kissed his face. 

“Sugar,” he whispered. “Sugar Ray.”

Ray kissed him, full on the mouth, pretended it didn't taste like his own tears. Walter held him, and Ray held on.  



End file.
